


follow me into the woods, take me home

by thatfire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harry Potter References, M/M, Mage!Stiles, Magic Stiles, Minor Character Death, Pack Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfire/pseuds/thatfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Derek first meets Stiles, he’s chasing a feral omega through the preserve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	follow me into the woods, take me home

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic a while a go, after seeing some Stiles fanart, but then i forgot about it for a while, and then i found it again, and it turned into this :)   
> thank you to the lovely becca for beta reading for me! <3

 When Derek first meets Stiles, he’s chasing a feral omega through the preserve.

The omega’s killed two people in the week it’s been in town, left one for dead and in critical condition before Derek’s finally been able to get a strong scent of it, the sound of paws running through the forest and the smell of fresh blood making him shift and set up chase.

There are twigs and thorns in his fur and the rush of wind in his ears and he’s running at such speed that he doesn't notice the tingle of magic that brushes across him, not until he’s slamming muzzle first into a barrier, the omega whining low in its throat.

It takes Derek several minutes to get his bearings back, and when he finally does, he notices the figure, the shape of a human stepping towards the omega, palm stretched outwards, and he doesn't have enough time to growl a warning, let alone move to stop him.

The omega doesn't do anything apart from whine low in its throat, and then there’s a purple glow, curling around the figure’s fingers and threading through the omega’s fur, before it’s replaced by pale and bloodied skin and a mop of dark hair and Derek finds himself shifting back to human as well.

“He’s called Scott.” The figure says, when Derek starts to step forward, claws out and teeth sharp, and he gets his first look at large amber eyes, mole and tattooed pale skin. “And I’m Stiles.”

 

\---

 

Scott joins his pack.

Derek’s not quite sure how it happens, but Stiles is all long conversations and talkative with his hands and he finds himself listening when Stiles tells the story, Scott sitting sickly pale and shivering in the hollow of the Hale house.

“The alpha, the one who bit Scott… he’s mad, feral. We lost track of him in Sacramento, and then Scott went missing, I tried tracking him as well, listening out for mentions of animal attacks, but there wasn't anything, not until I heard of the ‘mountain lion’ attacks in Beacon Hills.” Stiles’ tattoos move when he speaks, curling along his cheeks and around his chin, running down his neck and beneath his shirt, and Derek finds himself staring, wondering how far they go. “It took me a while to track Scott once I got here, whatever the alpha’s doing to him, it’s not the same as a normal alpha’s will, it’s stronger, more dangerous, Scott completely lost his mind, turned feral, like an omega-“

“What did you do to turn him back?” Derek interrupts, eyes flicking between the two sitting opposite him.

“Huh? Oh! I’m a mage,” Stiles waves his hand like that explains it, (and Derek supposes it does, he’s heard of mages before, been told of stories about their works with packs), carrying on before Derek can speak. “Scott was my best friend before all of this happened, he’s always known about my magic, and when he was bitten I managed to help him keep control, help work with his anchor, but then the alpha did something, and he started to lose control, we were trying to track him, the alpha, before Scott went completely feral, but as you can see that didn't quite work out.”

Derek can’t help the snort that escapes. He’s had hunters breathing down his neck all week, pushing him to find the killer, to _kill_ the wolf or they will, and he’s faced with two _kids_ , with far more to cope with then they should.

“You know he’s a dead man? He’s killed two people, not only are the police after whoever did it, but there’s a group of _hunters_ who can’t wait to rip him apart.” He tries to ignore the twisting feeling in his stomach when Scott flinches and Stiles sends him a glare that makes him freeze.

“We _know_. This is why you’re going to take him into your pack.” Stiles doesn't even blink when Derek snarls or when Scott twists to look at him so quickly he’s briefly surprised he didn't get whiplash.

“I am not taking him into my pack. Do you know what the hunters would do to me? To both of you?”

“They wouldn't be able to do anything, not if it’s done correctly.” When Derek just raises an eyebrow, Stiles rolls his eyes and continues. “If Scott accepts you as his alpha, accepts Beacon Hills as the home of his pack and it’s set with magic, my magic, they wouldn't have any right to deny it. Its ancient magic, ancient _lore_ , nearly every old family, werewolves, mages, _hunters_ , know of it, and assuming these hunters are Argents?” Derek nods. “Then they’re definitely old enough to have knowledge of this. _Obviously_ they’re not going to forget the killings, but if you help us find the alpha, catch him, and… and kill him, I can prove that Scott wasn't responsible, and you can start building a pack, proper pack.”

 

\---

 

Derek doesn't mean to listen into the conversation, but he hears his name, and can’t help that his feet freeze on the spot.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.” It’s Scott, his voice sounding small, quiet.

“It’ll be fine. Look, I know Derek’s not an alpha, but he’s a strong enough beta to work as your alpha. It’s better than being a feral omega ok? It could be good for both of you.” Scott scoffs, and Stiles laughs, strong and deep. “Besides, I’m going to be right here with you. Nothing can defeat us. We’re Batman and Robin, dude!” Derek rolls his eyes as they laugh, remembers how young they actually are as he steps back and down the hall.

It’s not until he’s made it outside, that he realizes he never mentioned his name.

 

\---

 

Derek wakes up the smell of chlorine three days later.

He's hardly seen Scott or Stiles since they actually moved _in_ to the husk of a house, always catching a scent or sound of one of them, just for them to be gone when he turns the corner. He's heard parts of rushed whispered conversations, and seen odd plants and objects around the windows, there's glowing runes and symbols on the stairs, and marks on the trees in the reserve, but he's hasn't actually _seen_ Stiles, and it bugs him more than he thinks it should, (for the wrong _reasons_.)

 

When the smell of chlorine starts to itch and burn at his nose, he grunts and swings his legs over the side of the grey mattress, his toes wiggling on the floor before he stands.

He's not quiet when he walks down the stairs, heavy footfalls and creaking steps, but the mop of hair on the dilapidated sofa in the living room doesn't move, apart from a slight twitch, and he can't help but roll his eyes, and wonder if Scott can sleep through anything.

 

There's a clatter from what’s left of the kitchen, followed by muffled curses, and Derek quietens his steps, pads around the dividing wall until he stands in the doorway.

Stiles is hunched over a small table, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. There's a bowl of something steaming under his nose, a range of little pots filled with powders and dried grains, and he's stirring almost idly at the liquid, his gazed focused on the back of his left hand.

 

Derek watches.

He's not sure for how long, but he stares at the way Stiles' fingers wrap around the spoon, long and strong, and the way he bites and chews at his lip, how his lashes cast shadows on his cheek, and the small upturn of his nose, and knows full well that he sounds like he's waxing poetic in his own head before he manages to stop himself.

 

"What are you doing?"

The bowl wobbles slightly as Stiles spins around, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

"Jesus- A little noise would be very much appreciated next time!"

"Sorry." Derek shrugs, not sorry at all as he steps forward, peaking at the murky, sloppy liquid. He hears a quiet "Of _course_ you are." laced with sarcasm, and can't help the slight curl of his mouth.

"It's a tracing spell." Stiles says finally. "Well, _kind_ of. It's not- it won't lead exactly to where we need it to, not exactly to the Alpha, but it should find an area, narrow it down."

"And what? You look into it like a magic ball and see where he's meant to be?" Derek arches an eyebrow, lip still curled slightly in a smirk.

Stiles narrows his eyes and purses his mouth. " _Yes_." he says, reluctant, and slightly embarrassed, and Derek snorts before he can help himself.

"Oh shut up wolf boy. Besides, it's not working. Whatever's going on with good old Alpha's stopping the spell. All I'm getting is shadowed gloop, no matter how many times I try."

Derek stays quiet, frowning slightly. "Don't you have to use blood for these kind of spells?"

"I'm not a blood mage." Stiles hisses, waving his hand at the bowl until it clears. "And no, you can use hair, kind of like a polyjuice potion, and considering whatever the Alpha's doing to Scott, their genes are mixing, so I can use his if I get the right spell.

Derek doesn't say anything, but watches in silence as Stiles clears up the bowl and little pots, with only a small amount of fascination, eyes glued to the way Stiles' hands work.

 

He goes to leave once Stiles has finished clearing up, figures a run around the reserve is a good idea, can search for any signs of the Alpha at the same time, but he can't resist one last thing before he heads towards the back door.

"Should I start calling you Hermione Granger now?"

 

He can still hear Stiles' curses by the time he's at the edge of the forest, and wonders how this kid makes him feel so much lighter.

 

\---

 

The run turns out to be uneventful.

Derek can smell brief passings of another wolf, strong enough to be an Alpha, and he figures it probably _is_ the Alpha, but it's long gone now, the scent only wrapped around a spread of trees and there's no way he can trace it anywhere but in circles.

He thinks of going back, to the dusk of a house that smells like ashes and magic, knows that he should probably start training Scott, finding out more about the two people he let into his house, created a semi-mess of a pack with, but his feet carry on moving, until the muscles in his legs burn in a sweet kind of ache, his back sticky with sweat.

 

He thinks ' _Later_ , _I will later._ '

 

\---

 

 

When Derek returns, the house is silent and empty, and for a moment Derek worries, but then he sees that there's a note stuck to the old fringe in the kitchen and a wonky, falling apart sandwich next to it.

 

" _Had to go see Deaton. Took Scotty boy with me. There's a sandwich on the side._

_Try not to have too much fun without us!"_

 

Huh, later.

 

_\---_

 

_Later,_ doesn't in fact happen, not until Stiles makes it a week later.

 

"You two need to bond." Stiles says from where he stands in the doorway, and both Derek and Scott look up from what they'd been doing, eyes narrowing as they stare at Stiles.

"Don't look at me like that. You need to work together, otherwise you're gonna' have no chance in defeating the Alpha when we find it."

" _If you_ find the Alpha." Derek mumbles, ignoring the fact that Stiles does have a point.

"I'm working on it okay, but that's beside the point! Look, I get that this is difficult for both of you, but we're grown ups, and we have to work together." Stiles' mouth is set in a firm line, as if he's waiting for one of them to tell him he's wrong.

 

Derek doesn't say anything, but continues to stare at Stiles, his fingers tightening and loosening on the book he's holding, and he knows he's should say something, be the adult in the situation, but simply raises an eyebrow. He looks over at Scott, sees the way his back is tense and how he looks like he's trying to kill Stiles with his eyes, before he turns them to Derek, eyes narrowing more and then huffing.

"Fine." He says finally, dragging out the word, and Derek snorts at Stiles' whoop and excited babbling about training exercises, turns his attention back the book he was reading.

 

"Meet at six in the morning, out front, wear something you don't mind being ruined." Derek cuts in, standing from the half broken chair he'd been sitting on.

 

"I'm not being your punching bag Derek!" Scott half shouts, and Derek only rolls his eyes, before walking from the room.

 

("Six? As in six am? As in while it's still _dark_?")

 

\---

 

"You need to find your anchor Scott!" Derek shouts as he throws Scott back.

Scott doesn't say anything, but he snarls, teeth lengthened and eyes burning amber, before he crouches and lunges forward again. He manages to scrape and catch his claws on Derek's shoulder, and Derek can feel his jaw moving, his brow shifting as his features change and he swipes back.

 

"Find. Your. Anchor, and focus."

"I'm trying!" Scott's voice is gruffer than usual, his shoulders shifting under the collar of his ripped shirt, and Derek can see Stiles from where he sits on the broken steps outside the house, his hands fidgeting and lip worried bitten.

"Try _harder._ "

"Maybe we should take a break-"

"Stiles." Stiles stares at Scott, before nodding, stepping back and sitting down again.

 

Derek watches Scott closes his eyes, sees his nose flare as he takes deep breaths and how his jaw works as he grinds his teeth, before he opens his eyes again, head shifting to the side, and Derek checks his stances, steadies his footing just before Scott charges forward. He expects Scott to head for his stomach, claws digging into his sides, and sets his arms ready, but Scott doesn't, heads around the side and down, until his feet connect with Derek's legs and he goes down, Derek only just has enough time to roll away and crouch, before Scott's back up and charging again.

Derek lets his eyes glow blue, his bones crack and re-setting, and when Scott's close enough, he manages to get a grip on his leg, pulls him down until he can get a restraining hand on his chest, his breathing heavy.

"Breathe." He says, and Scott blinks, his face slowly shifting back to human.

 

He stands, his own form changing back as he turns away, heading back to get a drink.

"You found your anchor." Derek leaves the unasked question open as Scott joins him, gaze flitting away before turning back.

"It's my mom... And Stiles. Family, I guess?" Derek nods for him to continue. "My mom, she- the Alpha killed her, just after he bit me, but she's always going to be a part of me you know? And Stiles... Stiles has been there through all of it, since middle school, didn't ditch me when I was turned, we made our own kind of family."

Derek doesn't say anything, tries to ignore the burning jealousy, but he does squeeze Scott's shoulder, thinks of Laura, and the fire and he thinks he gets it, that he understands.

 

There's silence, before he turns towards them both.

"If we work together, we should have a good chance of defeating him."

 

( _later, he catches the almost soft smile Stiles sends his way, and tries to ignore the something warm that bubbles in his stomach._ )

 

\---

 

Derek finds Stiles sitting on the floor in what used to be the library.

 

"What are you doing in here?" He wipes the sweat from his brow with an old rag of a towel, sweat sticking to him after training with Scott.

Stiles startles, blinking his eyes and staring up at Derek slowly.

"What?"

"I said," He crouches, peering at the books on the floor. "What are you doing in here?"

"It's quiet in here, I came in to read, to think, it's... peaceful."

Stiles goes silent then, his focus going back to the book, and Derek moves to sit opposite, his legs folding neatly underneath him.

 

(Derek thinks he should find it odd, that these people he's known for less than a month, have wormed themselves into his life, that he knows that something's playing on Stiles' mind, how he knows to wait because Stiles will talk when he's ready. Doesn't want to think of what it means.)

 

He doesn't look up from the front cover of a book he'd been staring at, waits until Stiles shuffles a little, and raises an eyebrow in question.

"Do you think-, do you think we've really got a change against the Alpha?" Stiles asks, voice quiet.

Derek's silent for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of tattoo on Stiles' cheek and neck, and one he can't remember seeing before, curving along his wrist.

"I think," He starts carefully. "If we work together, we can."

Stiles bites his lip, his brow furrowed but he nods slowly, hands clutching the book tighter to his chest.

 

It's quiet again, before Stiles speaks, and when he does Derek doesn't expect those words to leave his mouth, but something settles in him.

"I wanted to say thank you. For helping Scott, and for letting us stay with you. I can't imagine that it's been easy on you."

 

"It's been...nice." He replies, the words tasting almost strange on his tongue, but Stiles grins, teeth showing and mouth stretched wide, and it's worth it.

 

\---

 

The next week is good, _quiet_.

Derek trains with Scott in the mornings, before Scott leaves to see _Deaton_ , and when he comes back, Derek half listens as he waxes poetic about a girl called Allison to Stiles, whose 'beautiful and sunshine and daises' and listens to Stiles' laugh as they joke around, tries to ignore the ever growing bubble of want in his stomach.

 

He meets with the Argents, and even though they aren't happy about Scott, about the spell from Stiles, they allow it, and he can still see Chris Argent's face twisting into a scowl and the almost bitter taste in the air as he'd signed the permit, feels a sick sort of pleasure burn low in his gut.

 

Derek runs the preserve each day, smells the faint scent of Alpha, but never enough to trace, and when he comes back, there's always a sandwich near the fridge, and sometimes a note.

Not everything is perfect, they all argue, and butt heads, but it's more than he's had since Laura was killed, and he feels something which he can only describe as contentment fill him, fights better, and feels stronger, feels himself grow closer to Stiles and revels in the small smiles and whisper of touches.

 

Which of course means everything goes to Hell on Monday.

 

\---

 

"Okay, so no to vampires, but what about unicorns?"

Stiles and Scott are tangled together on the beaten down couch, and Scott grunts occasionally, nods at all the right times without looking up from his phone, when Stiles looks at him for support, and Derek can't help but be jealous of how close they are.

 

"Stiles, this isn't Harry Potter." Scott says, and Derek snorts, because Stiles has been listing mythical creatures and asking if they exist for the past 30 minutes.

"I know, but I _am_ a wizard, okay technically _mage,_ so still, there could be!"

"If you say so."

Stiles narrows his eyes playfully at Scott, before leaning over and trying to snatch his phone.

"Stiles, Stile- no wait give it back!"

Scott grapples for the phone, Stiles' coo of ' _Allison_ ' muffled in a mess of limbs, and Derek rolls his eyes, slouching more into his seat.

 

It's not until he hears Stiles' hitch of breathing, followed by a string of curses, does he look back.

"Stiles?" Scott looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide and staring at where Stiles holds his wrist.

"It wasn't you, it's-fuck, oh _God_."

When he moves his hand, Derek can see the tattoo pulsing and glowing a bright blue, the twines of light curling around his wrists and thumb.

"What does that mean?" He asks flatly, already standing, moving over to Scott who's crouched protectively over Stiles.

"I put wards, runes, through the preserve, they're meant to alert when there's danger, but it shouldn't be like _this_ , it's not meant to hurt like this, and I don't _understand_." Stiles is frantic, his breathing erratic.

"Stiles. Focus. It's going to be-"

 

Derek doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence, a loud snarl echoing through the house from outside, and his stomach drops to his feet, even as Scott spins around to face the door, face growing pale as he changes to beta from.

 

They've trained for this, and planned for it, but Derek isn't sure they're ready, can feel the Alpha’s power through the walls, growing closer and the hairs on his arms stand up.

 

He's about to push Stiles behind him when a body comes crashing through one of the broken windows, before it shakes itself off and stands up, eyes glowing bright red, and snarl rumbling in its throat.

 

Derek feels the shift, makes a low aborted gesture to Scott as he steps forward.

It doesn't take long for the Alpha to attack, ~~its f~~ orm moving freely, biting at their sides and clawing at their faces. He can hear Stiles chanting in the background, his breathing heavy but voice steady, and he can see Scott crawling back towards the Alpha, side scraped open and raw, his own front bleeding steady as he continues to fight.

He manages to get an open wound on the Alphas shoulder, before he's thrown back, head knocking and back cracking onto the staircase. There's a growl, scrapes and scratches along the floor before a thud, and Derek manages to crack his eyes open as his body tries to heal, to see Scott pinned under the form and knows they're losing.

 

Stiles' chanting stutters, muffled by the sounds of bones cracking together as the Alpha turns human, and Derek can feel bile rising in his throat as he recognizes the figure.

 

"Isn't this a nice little gathering?" The figure stands, his body covered in scars and burns, but his stance is steady, smirk curling at his mouth, and not worried about his nudity.

"Peter." Derek manages to croak, his heart hammering as his bones knit back together.

"You _know_ him?" Stiles' chanting has stopped completely, his voice wavering slightly.

"He's my-"

"Oh, _nephew_. I can't decide if I should be hurt or not that you didn't recognize your own uncle. After all, I have been running around your territory for weeks." Peter looks around the room lazily, ignores when Scott manages to shuffle away bleeding, his gaze lighting up as it catches Stiles, and Derek can't help the growl that bubbles in his throat.

"Now, you must be Stiles."

Stiles only steps back once, Derek can see him swallow as he wills himself to heal faster, watches helplessly as Peter stalks towards Stiles.

"And you must be the psycho Alpha who killed Scott's mom, who turned him, made him lose his mind."

"All unfortunate, yet necessary casualties." Peter pauses, his head snapping down towards his feet, before he turns back towards Stiles. "Stiles, I'm going to give you a chance, because I _really_ don't want to hurt that pretty little face of yours. Break the circle now."

 

Derek manages to move forward, enough to see the faint glow of a purple circle surrounding Peter, before he tries to stand, legs wobbling beneath him. He flicks his eyes to Scott's unmoving body, breathes a brief sigh of relief when he hears the faint heartbeat as he shuffles towards Peter and Stiles.

 

"You killed Derek's sister, _your_ niece." Stiles says, his lip curled, and Derek falters.

"It wasn't my finest moment." Peter's voice growing uglier. "Break. The. Circle."

"You almost killed my father, I had to leave him, you ruined _everything._ " Stiles snarls, and Derek sees his wrist flick, before a flame wraps around his fingers.

 

"Stiles." He says, hand reaching out, can't let Stiles be burdened with killing someone, even as he tries to blank out the scent of flames, ignores the reminder of burning flesh, but Stiles doesn't look away from Peter, the flames growing.

 

Stiles swings his arm back, the flames dancing along his arms, flickering from burning orange, to a bright blue, before he swings it forward, hitting Peter in the chest, and Peter howls, dropping to his knees as he claws at the flames on his chest.

Derek raises his arm, covering his eyes from the sight, but the waiting smell of fire doesn't fill his nose, nor the crackling of flesh, slowly lowers his arm, and sees the flames licking at Peter's skin, like a phantom touch, not burning or harming, yet Peter continues to scream, until he slowly writhes to the floor, breathing labored. Derek looks over at Stiles, sees his eyes closed tightly, before they open, rimmed red at they connect with Derek's.

"You should uh, he's not dead. It's... It's up to you." He says finally, swallowing, his arms shaking tightly at his sides, before how turns away, feet heavy as they step towards Scott.

 

Derek stands frozen, staring at the spot where Stiles stood, before he looks at Peter, his uncles chest barely rising.

The purple circle is gone, and Derek steps forward carefully, crouching over Peter when he's close enough, staring at the man who killed his sister, who tried to kill him, and prays to spot something of someone he used to love.

"You've already made your decision." Peter manages to gasp, breath wet and stale.

Derek closes his eyes, breathes in and feels his claws slip from his nails.

"I killed her." A sick smile curves at Peter's burnt flesh, even as he closes his eyes and relaxes. "I killed Kate. I killed the woman who burnt our family alive. So do it. Kill me."

 

"I'm sorry." Derek whispers, bringing his claws along Peter's chest, feels the skin break under his hand, the final breath of his family leave, and when he blinks his eyes, he knows they're red.

 

\---

 

Scott sleeps for two days.

They take him to see Deaton, who bandages him up and frowns at Derek, whispers to Stiles in low tones before handing him a phial that Stiles downs in one.

 

"He's going to be fine." Deaton says, "The hold the alpha had over Scott is simply trying to mend. He'll be back to normal after his body has healed and rested."

 

"Thank you." Stiles is quiet, his eyes tired and skin stretched too tight, but he still manages to smile, and Derek tries to ignore how he hasn't look at him since he killed Peter.

 

"I suppose I should call you Alpha Hale." Deaton's voice is unreadable, and Derek wearily nods.

 

"I knew your parents." He says, "I'll try and help you get used to being an Alpha."

 

\---

 

Derek dreams of Kate the first time he sleeps as an Alpha.

He dreams of how she tasted like mountain ash and fire, and how her nails dug into his skin and how her words were bitter and cruel and twisted like string.

He wakes up with bile in his throat, and skin clammy with sweat.

 

\---

 

He hears Scott and Stiles talking on the porch one day. Sees them curled together under a blanket, breath fogging in front of them.

 

"I'm thinking of staying." Scott whispers, head hung low.

"Allison?" Stiles asks, shoulder nudging Scott until he looks back up.

"Shut up... But, there's nothing for me back home, not unless you go back, and Allison _is_ here, and I can have a pack here, you know?"

"Yeah."

 

They stay quiet, and Derek's about to leave when Scott speaks again.

 

"You could go back to you dad." He says, and Derek doesn't listen to any more.

 

\---

 

Stiles disappears for a week.

Derek doesn't ask, and Scott doesn't mention it, but he does watch carefully, offers small knowing smiles sometimes, like he knows what Derek's thinking.

Derek leaves the rooms most times, and tries to ignore the nagging voice in his head that tells him he misses Stiles.

(he _does_ ,)

 

\---

 

When Stiles returns, he smells happy and of burger grease, and there's a shy smile playing at his mouth.

 

"Scott said you missed me." Is the first thing he says, and Derek scowls, but doesn't deny it, and Stiles' smile grows.

 

He steps forward, until his knees brush Derek's from where he's sitting on the ratty old sofa.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry I left without saying anything, I had to, I had to see my dad. He was pretty mad at me, when he'd realised what I'd done."

Derek looks, waiting for Stiles to continue,

"I uh, after Peter killed Scott's mum, I had to do anything to protect him. I used this spell, it removed any trace of me from him, scents... Memories, it confuses supernatural creatures." Stiles pauses, biting his lip and shuffling, "It was the only thing I could do to keep him safe, but he forgot about me. I went to reverse it."

 

Derek's chest aches, but Stiles smiles, eyes bright, and tattoo's curving, black against his pale skin, long limbed and curled hands, and Derek can't resist anymore.

He reaches up slowly, enough time for Stiles to move away if he wants to, but he doesn't, leans forward slightly, until Derek wraps his hands around his hips, pulls Stiles so he collapses across his lap, legs curled awkwardly and elbows brushing his neck.

 

"Hi." He whispers, word ghosting Stiles' mouth.

"Hey."

 

Stiles' breath is sweet, his lips wet from where his tongue keeps on flicking out to rub across the red skin, and when Derek finally slots their mouths together, he's soft and plaint, breath gusting out of him and hands tangling into Derek's hair.

 

Stiles is warm, and fits perfectly into the curve of Derek's body, and Derek can't remember ever being this happy.

 

\---

 

When Derek fucks him later, it's slow and careful, and Stiles whines low in his throat, hips thrusting back against Derek's. Stiles is beautiful like this, skin flushed a dark red, and eyes wide and glazes, lips bitten raw and ruby red, and wonders how he waited so long for this, to finally feel Stiles completely.

 

He lets Stiles twine their fingers, holds them besides his head and buries his nose in Stiles' neck, snuffling noises escaping him at Stiles falls apart beneath him, and Derek's thrusting sloppily, breath wet against Stiles' neck. Stiles run soothing hands across his back and through his hair, whispers quiet things into his hair as he finally comes, holds him close after.

 

And Derek thinks later, when they're under the covers of his old bed, skin sticking together and soft kisses, that he could stay like this forever.


End file.
